


Coralroot Kisses

by vyrenrolar



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Flowers, M/M, Orchids, bonsai tree, pavel chekov: mvp, sulu communicates via plants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 00:24:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10477893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vyrenrolar/pseuds/vyrenrolar
Summary: Chekov forces Sulu to tell Spock about his feelings.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katiemariie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiemariie/gifts).



Sulu shifted his weight from left to right and back again. He groaned. “Chekov, I can’t. What if--”

Chekov, utterly exhausted by Sulu’s continual hesitation, slapped his hand to his face and swore. “Sulu Sulu, I swear to Mother Russia, if you do not give him that godforsaken flower tonight, I will do it myself! Spock will be so grateful and touched that he will accept my offer of dinner, fall madly in love with me, and then we’ll get married and have seventy children! And I don’t even like him that much! Or children, for that matter.”

“But I--”

Chekov held up a finger. “No buts! We have been over this. You have spent months creating this...this monstrosity of a gift. All because you cannot simply walk up to the man and say, ‘Hello, Commander Spock. I’ve been in love with you for the past four years. Can I buy you a drink?’ It is ridiculous!”

Sulu’s brow furrowed, and Chekov could tell that the man was going to try, yet again, to argue. Chekov had had it. He was quite beyond frustrated at this point, as the entire ridiculous conversation had been going on for well past an hour. Perhaps it was time to take matters into his own hands.

“Hey! What are you--?”

“Shush. No talking.” Chekov had taken Sulu by the shoulders, spun him around, and was now marching the man out the door. “You are coming with me, and we are going to Commander Spock’s Quarters. You, my friend, are not allowed to talk until we get there.”

The journey took about five minutes in total. It would have taken two, but Sulu attempted to turn back four times, and had to be reminded each time that Chekov was, in fact, strong enough to arm wrestle a polar bear. (“I have done it. Twice. Now march!”) The herding was made all the easier due to Sulu’s hands being full of ceramic pot

When they arrived at Spock’s door, Chekov practically punched the chime. Spock’s voice could be heard from within: “Yes?”

“I have an idiot here, and he has a flower. Open the door.”

The door opened, revealing Spock with one eyebrow already raised. Sulu, on the other hand, was blushing a rather intense pink, and looked completely mortified.

“May we come in?” asked Chekov.

Spock, looking somewhat bemused, stepped aside to make room for his visitors.

“Wonderful.” Chekov shoved Sulu into the room, nodded respectfully to Spock, turned on his heel and walked away. Sulu thought he could hear something along the lines of “idiot friend” and “why do I even bother” as the man rounded the corner.

Spock and Sulu stood, entirely too close for comfort. Spock cleared his throat. “You may sit, if you wish.”

Sulu nodded and murmured his thanks as he sat, still clutching his potted gift. Spock left the room for a moment, only to return with two steaming cups of tea. He set one down on the table in front of Sulu, then sat in the chair opposite him. He sipped his tea and waited for Sulu to speak.

Sulu opened and closed his mouth a few times, shook his head, and put the pot on the table. He drank far too much of the tea at once and spluttered. After attempting to recover, he placed his hands on his knees and sighed. “Spock, I--”

“This is quite a remarkable gift.”

Sulu blushed again. “Thank you. I...The bonsai tree is a Japanese Maple. My grandfather kept its ancestor. It’s...well, I like them at any rate.”

Spock leaned forward. “Fascinating. And the flower?”

Sulu’s eyes lit up. “It’s called a Coleman’s Coralroot. It’s extremely rare on Earth, only native to a small area in the southwestern United States, and if you look here...” He slid off the couch and knelt in front of the table, the better to point to the roots of the tree. “The orchid doesn’t actually have any roots. It’s entirely dependent on this fungus for support, and the fungus is dependent on the tree. It’s an extremely delicate balance, which is why the coralroot is so rare in the wild, and it...um…” Sulu had made the mistake of looking up.

Spock was now kneeling as well, his knee within a few inches of Sulu’s. His hand was hovering over the flower’s purple blossom, almost but not quite touching. “Remarkable. How long did it take you to achieve such harmony?

“Um,” Sulu could feel himself getting warmer. His hand was mere inches from Spock’s; he found the whole situation rather distracting. “I already had the bonsai, and I got the fungus the last time we stopped at Vulcan? And so I’ve been growing the flower for...almost a year now, I guess. Do you keep your quarters at a higher temperature than the rest of the ship? Sorry, I’m just, um...Well.”

Spock lowered his hand to rest on the pot’s rim, almost but not quite touching Sulu. “Was it intended for me from the beginning?” He looked at his companion, his gaze thoughtful.

Sulu swallowed, then nodded. “Yes. I’m...Well, it’s...Damn you, Pavel. Look. Spock. I like you. If you don’t like me that way, that’s fine, I’ll just...see myself out. But I...I did this, I guess, to show that it’s real. That it’s not some passing crush, or an impulse. I thought that would be important to you.”

Spock closed his eyes for a moment. Sulu grew increasingly panicked.

Spock rose as his eyes opened. Sulu sprang up beside him, nearly upsetting his teacup. “I’ll just...go then. Sorry, I--” He started to move toward the door, but stopped when Spock spoke.

“You may stay, if you wish. I find I greatly appreciate your company. In addition, your tea remains unfinished.”

“I...does this mean…?”

“If I am interpreting your intent correctly, then yes. If you wish to proceed, your courtship would not be unappreciated.”

Sulu grinned. “You like it then? The flower and the tree? I mean it’s not...too much?”

Spock smiled slightly. “It is not. May I sit with you on the sofa?”

They sat, then, and drank their tea, almost but not quite touching. They spoke, too, of boundaries: of rules and regulations, of personal space and physical contact.

“So, when we’re alone, I can touch you whenever I want?”

“Yes. Though I would ask that you remain aware of my comfort level, and that you do not attempt to distract me while I am working.”

“Of course. Can I--I mean, I know what physical contact means to Vulcans, to you, but--can I touch you? Now?”

Spock breathed in perhaps a little more sharply than he meant to. “You may.” He reached for Sulu’s hand, and touched the back of it with two fingers.

Sulu’s breath hitched. He turned his hand so that his fingers could meet Spock’s, could intertwine and caress. He moved his other hand to Spock’s face, waited for assent before touching. He followed the line of Spock’s hair, down and around to his ear, felt the tip between his fingers and thrilled when his Vulcan’s eyes closed. Spock tilted his head to allow access to his neck, and Sulu obliged, lightly trailing down the taught tendon to his shirt collar. He shifted his weight, moving to kiss Spock’s neck, but was stopped before he could reach.

“Wait, please,” said Spock. “I must...regain control.”

Sulu chuckled. “Oh?”

Spock did not quite glare at Sulu. “Your touch is most bewitching.” He breathed deeply. “I fear, though, that we do not have the time to properly explore your ability to unhinge me just now.”

Sulu smiled sheepishly. “I guess I did get a little carried away, huh?”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “The encounter was neither uninvited nor discouraged. However, both of us must sleep before our shifts begin in a few hours. You must return to your quarters, or I believe I will find myself unable to rest.”

Sulu rolled his eyes. “I suppose we can be responsible, just this once. Tomorrow, though. Dinner?”

Spock nodded, then rose, pulling Sulu up by their still entwined hands. He walked with him to the door, then placed his fingers on the smaller man’s cheek. “Thank you. And I believe some thanks are owed to Mr. Chekov. You will relay them?”

Sulu smiled, agreed, and reluctantly disentangled his hand from Spock’s. He was already looking forward to dinner.


End file.
